until it hurts or bleeds and even then
by rapunzel in arendelle
Summary: "He leans his lips against her ear, murmuring, i love you and sweet nothings." —-John and Elizabeth Proctor handle love with care, without care and fix it with forgiveness (alternate ending to the drama). / For Razo Imprie


**Until It Hurts or Bleeds and Even Then****  
**"stay with me; don't leave me alone..."

* * *

**i**.

* * *

the wedding between john and elizabeth proctor is quiet.

only family are in attendance that night. elizabeth's sipping cider next to her mother as he comes over from across the floor, asking her to a dance. she takes his hand in hers, walks toward the centre, doesn't glance back. they waltz to a soft tune. their world closes on the two of them; john's hands are roughly calloused where hers are smoothly unblemished. neither pays much mind, though, since they'd not married for looks. they wed for love. love that washes over them as if it is God's flood again. he leans his lips against her ear, whispering, _i love you_ and sweet nothings. she smiles and _prays he not lie_.

"would you not love me if i do?" he murmurs amusedly.  
" nay, john, i couldn't."  
"then i shan't."  
" good." she supposes he may be flirting, or tying to rise her, but he's better than those petty ideas.

even though elizabeth is john's third wife, she feels like his first. so, when he kisses a second later, her heart dances, and they move into their new home the next day.

* * *

john likes the way his wife's hair falls into her face as she selects a biblical proverb to share. he lifts himself out of his seat, crossing to hear. she nods pleasantly at him. "lizzy, come take a walk," he says. being the dutiful wife, she does.

it's nice because john holds her hand, she tells him he has her feeling things she shouldn't, and tucks a soft flower in her flowing tresses. she blushes like a simpleminded child, yet it's alright. he's her spouse; they are not going to caught. (isn't this exactly the meaning of pleasure, sensing she's in a bubble of _gladness_, _excitement_, _happiness_ nobody can pop? a place solely for her and him?).

even hidden, it is nice.

* * *

**ii.**

* * *

_i have given God joy, and my newborn has, too, brought Him a reason to be glad_! they name him luke because it's elizabeth's favourite Gospel; she adores him, holding him, laughing upon seeing him stretch out of his blanket. her husband loves him: it's in his eyes. john isn't much for miracles. never how parris teaches them. there's something uniquely perfect about this small thing and it's not to do with looking as elizabeth does.

they're living in bliss until abigail williams arrives at the proctor's service. she's a seventeen year old girl and on her first day, she finds herself much attracted to the man of the house.

* * *

(she admires his built frame, his diligent hands, and wildfire spirit among other things. she notices the lick of his lips or tilt of his hat, or bend-flex of his muscles beneath his work shirt. someday, abigail would take him as hers. away from the woman who's his now).

all the while, john hopes for her. he's lustful for her.

(hopes on ever star in the dead of the night that she becomes his and, in the birth of day he hopes nothing will become of _them_. what they create is fire; she is the ignition spark. he is nothing but the forming ash, evidence of the disaster, which lingers no matter how many times he tries to clean their mess).

it is a cold house the proctors keep afterward, always avoiding each other as if words would destroy them both. it is a cold house, having led to a frozen marriage. love is shielded inside, guilt can't be removed from hearts. this occurs so long, lizzy forgets what defines a woman enamoured and john loses what it means to be a man altogether. in weakness, goody proctor weeps herself ill. in weakness, john cannot do anything but wonder whether abby was correct about existing jealousies.

* * *

**iii**.

* * *

his feet tap the floor. elizabeth comes through the courthouse door. he spins; danforth yells, "turn around!". john obeys. elizabeth does not—every time she's questioned she glances his direction. he desperately needs to tell her to do as she is bid, for she is too precious to waste life. her hiccups cause him to stir. she is hysterically sobbing. anger pierces within him. "no more of this, you damned bastards. you be hurting her now and i had done the same once. i lied, you heed me, i sinned before God and i shan't twice." he had rotated to face her. "she does not lie, she does not lie!"

mary warren cries, _mr. proctor, no_. elizabeth whispers, _oh john_, and he runs to her, pulling her into his arms. he kisses her in court, she quaking in his arms. just like their wedding leans his lips against her ear, murmuring, _i love you_ and sweet nothings.

"i do know you cannot love me as well as old times, lizzy."  
"all that shall matter is i love you still." she smiles.

* * *

_For Rosie, again._


End file.
